


coloring outside the lines

by Nightblaze



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Prompt Fic, and that is very hot of me, once i publish this i will be responsible for half of the dotin tag, paint fight paint fight paint fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightblaze/pseuds/Nightblaze
Summary: dot and fatin are painting their house. it doesn't go exactly as planned.
Relationships: Dot Campbell/Fatin Jadmani
Comments: 22
Kudos: 102





	coloring outside the lines

**Author's Note:**

> listen to Coloring Outside the Lines by Misterwives it has dotin vibes very specifically to this fic <3
> 
> thank you to Mon for sending me this prompt!!

Dot had painted a house before. Okay, that was stretching it—back before her dad’s sickness got bad, when she was little, they’d given the living room a fresh coat of paint, and that was it. She remembered that she had fun, but not much else.

Today she and Fatin were painting their own house. Dot was beyond psyched, of course. Who wouldn’t be at the thought of working on a house with their partner, making it into a home? But there was an ache in her heart that her father wasn’t around to see it.

“You good, babe?” Fatin said, placing a hand on Dot’s arm and shocking her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Just thinking about us.”

“Aw, you getting sappy?” Fatin grinned and kissed her quickly.

“Is that the last of the paint?” she asked instead of dignifying Fatin with an answer.

“There’s just the rollers and some brushes left in the trunk.”

“Cool, I’ll grab ‘em.”

They were working on what would be their bedroom once they moved in. The walls were a sickening shade of green and easily the highest priority for repainting. The blindingly bright blue kitchen came in a close second place.

Dot finished up putting masking tape on the trim and laying out drop cloths while Fatin finally figured out how to use a paint key and poured out a generous amount into two trays.

Things were going well, at the start. The peach color they chose together looked miles better than the shitty green, even in splotches, and Dot stood on a stepladder to reach the top of the walls. Fatin had connected her phone to a speaker and was blasting early 2010s hits (a guilty pleasure of both of theirs, not that they would ever admit it to anybody else).

Carly Rae Jepsen was singing about ripped jeans and hot nights when Fatin swung her roller around a little too fast and splattered paint all over Dot’s pants and shirt.

“Oh, fuck!” Fatin grimaced. “Sorry.”

Dot made a face and inspected the damage. “It’s fine. That’s why we’re wearing old clothes.”

A shit-eating grin started to spread across Fatin’s face. Dot was about to ask what was up but before she could, Fatin whipped the roller around again, sending more paint raining down on her.

“Dick!” Dot gasped. Fatin cackled and an idea formed in Dot’s head. “Oh, hey, you’ve got something… right there,” she said and rolled a block of paint on her shoulder.

“Motherfucker!”

Chaos erupted. Dot ducked out of the way to avoid another wave of paint and dove for a paint brush to better be able to fight back. Fatin followed her lead.

In mere moments, splatters of paint decorated the floor and walls in equal amounts, and both girls were spotted with peach and out of breath.

“Look what you did!” Fatin laughed as she looked around the room.

“Me? You started it!” Dot responded indignantly.

“All’s fair in love and war, Dorothy,” Fatin said and sent another flick of paint in her direction. Dot rolled her eyes and closed the distance between them, leaning in like she was going to kiss her. At the last moment, she grinned and smeared paint across Fatin’s cheek. “You bitch,” Fatin whispered and then kissed her.

They had planned to finish painting the room that day, but sometimes spontaneously making out took priority. Frankly, Dot had zero complaints.

Maybe it was the paint fumes or maybe she was just in love, but when they paused to catch their breath, Dot said, “You know, we should get married one day.”

“Dot Campbell,” Fatin breathed. “Are you proposing to me while we’re standing in an ugly-as-fuck room and covered in paint?”

“That depends. Are you saying yes?” Dot pressed her forehead to Fatin’s, their nose brushing as they laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Yes. Obviously, of course, absolutely yes.”


End file.
